Mired in my own thoughts...

let me accept it to myself. I am not as good as I think I am. I don’t like her and I cannot bring myself to forgive her, to be good to her or generally be a BIGGER, magnanimous person. the conflict in my mind is because I am trying to go against what comes naturally to me, to ignore / dislike someone who has caused so much of hurt(hurt is not the word, even trauma wouldn’t do justice). The problem is this is not that kind of relationship that can be ignored. I would feel guilty if I did it. it is very hard for me to be a hypocrite, so it is all the more tougher. It shows in my body language, I just cannot bring myself to feign affection and love. It is so not me. I am not a saint, “inna seithaarai oruthal avar nana nannayam seithu vidal” is very hard for me to do. I am not that kind of a person who wants to avenge either. I want to put IT back and get on with life. But I just am not able to FORGIVE or FORGET. I was OK for about 2 months, but it has come back haunting me again. Making me feel depressed, cry, giving me sleepless nights, extra ugly confrontations with DH, generally spoiling my life, the time I would have spent with Nikki, the time I would have spent reading a good book, cooking a new dish, talking to a good friend, choosing pictures for the collage frames that are lying idle for couple of months, hmm. I know I shouldn’t let this happen to me. She has forgotten everything and is having a good life. It is simply not worth my time. I know what the problem is. Me being the queen of lost moments, missed asking her so many things when IT happened. And I put up with abuse and kept completely quiet for the next 2 months, just because she was a guest at our home and the reason she was here is to look after Nikki so he won’t go to daycare before he is at least 1. Unless I give her a piece of my mind, and respond to everything she said, if not that, at least confront her for the insults that she meted out to my parents, especially my mom, I cannot be at peace. Wait, is this what is called revenge? I don’t know. Probably I am bad.

Do I know myself? Has IT revealed a completely new facet of my personality? I used to be the person who will keep quiet when I had confrontations with my father, sometimes he even has beat me, but I have put up with it calmly, forgiven him and almost forgotten everything. But what he spoke or did, did not hurt me THIS MUCH. It was kind of harmless, something that happened because he is a short-tempered person, he is not vile. I would just keep quiet for a couple of days, that will be my form of protest and ultimately either he or me will take the first step towards peace and everything will become normal. Nothing has haunted me THIS LONG and THIS MUCH in my life. Why it has come back NOW is because I am going to India. And I will have to go to THEIR house. I have no problem talking to THEM over the phone from here. I can manage that. But living in that house, just with the two of them, eating, sleeping, bathing, talking, smiling, listening to their talks, cooking dishes for them, eating food made by her, as though nothing ever happened between us, I simply cannot. I just CANNOT DO IT. But they have a right to enjoy Nikki, their grandson, and Nikki wouldn’t part with me, so I have to go. Do they have the right to enjoy the fruit of my womb whilst they hate me? Just because the seed for the fruit came from their lineage? I can manage being there for a few days or even for a week if DH is with us. I do not want to be there even for an hour when DH wouldn’t be there. There is no pressure for me from anyone. DH is completely cool, everything is upto you is what he says. See this is my problem. If he tells me, please try to stay there for a couple of days, I will fight with him . and if he tells me not to stay there, then I would ask him isn’t it wrong? After all, they are old people, they have some love (why it is only “some” is a big story) for Nikki, Nikki took to her well during her stay and I shouldn’t be denying them their rightful love. And there are these relatives with their endless inquisitive questions – when are you going to your in-laws?, oh you stayed there only for 2 days? Nikki is their property(I have already heard this).

I am making those painful phone calls every week just so we are in touch. With time, the calls have become less painful. But most of the times, something she says will linger on in my mind for a long time and will upset me. A remark that she makes comparing me with her daughter, something she says about DH, or I don’t know if it is me who takes everything in the wrong sense. Hmm. Human relationships are the most complex ones. It is tough to make DH understand where I am coming from in spite of being with him for so many years. Sometimes, I want to sit down with her, explain everything and tell her that she has misunderstood a lott of things, basically tell her that I am not what she thinks I am. And also gently remind her that she has no right whatsoever to insult my parents. And give her a chance to explain her behavior too. DH warns me she will never listen (he knows her better, after all his mother). It is akin starting another fight with her, if you start, it will be only you who will be hurt and do not come to me complaining about anything. She is foul-mouthed, arrogant, too egoistic and vile. (a sample: telling my mom that I do not love her or my family, I just act and talk as though I love them. logic: I don’t put food in her plate and give it to her, give her diabetes tablets on time, offer her snacks every now & then, generally take care of her).

DH thinks she has gone insane, so there is no point talking to her. Or else why anyone in their right mind would go to neighbors after I go to work and gossip about me, my parents, how I am torturing her at home, insulting her, give them her gold bangles and ask them to arrange tickets to India(her return tickets were already booked and she had the eticket with her), I shudder at the thought of somebody from DSS visiting us on complaints from our neighbors. Other than taking care of Nikki at home when we went to work (I used to telecommute on 3 days when she was here, so that lessened her burden), she was never asked by us to do ANY household work. She could not stand that her son’s house was run by me and she had no say whatsoever in lot of things (Back in India, FIL does all household work, she does only cooking – once a day, and spends all her time outside home(neighbors, window shopping). And she is an extremely dominant personality, arrogant often, FIL has no say whatsoever in anything, once he told me “I cannot spend even 5 paise without her approval”).

I think she also got lonely here when both of us went to work and that made her depressed. There was no Indian TV available in our area and we were not allowed to have satellite dishes. I did not have many tamil books for her to read, and she accused me for that too. “Idle mind is a devil’s workshop” – she misunderstood every little thing I spoke / did. If I shout at DH for not helping me clean the bathroom because there is tough stain and it hurts my wrists (I have a very bad case of De Quervain’s), she would understand that I am passing an insinuating comment at her that she made that stain and I am indirectly insulting her by asking DH to complete the cleaning. I am a v.e.r.y. absentminded person, misplace and will be searching for my rubber band(I have a couple that I use every other day) and cell phone almost everyday in the morning rush. One day I said “I don’t see any of my rubber-bands” while searching, apparently MIL was using some of mine, she thought I am insulting her, but she did not say anything to me or DH then. Instead she went to the neighbors after I went to work, cried to them telling them that I called her thief, got some rubber bands from them and used them. These are just samples, I can go on and on and on. Even if I try to brush off all these thinking that she really was depressed at that time, I cannot forgive her for the things she spoke to my mom. I am sure she was out of depression by then, having shouted at me, calling me names, accusing me of every possible mean thing, giving me curses in movie style(slapping her stomach with hands), threatening suicide when DH was not home, she did everything possible to hurt me other than hitting me. She tortured my mom with insults every single day(1 full month) that she lived with her. It really kills me when I think of that. And it is just 4 months since she left us. The wounds are still raw, I was almost into clinical depression, but for my mom’s presence here, I wouldn’t have survived it.

In the hindsight, I think I could have done a few things to avert this situation. I should have spoken to her more (DH doesn’t talk other than the mandatory conversations), got her books, arranged for some TV at least from the internet. She had gone to the neighbors (1 telegu, 1 tamil) and started comparing them with us and I think that is where the major problem started. This I don’t think I could have done anything. Neither could I have changed how things were at our home. I had lot of postpartum problems, without DH’s help I cannot run the home and also work full time. I can only make breakfast for him, cannot make sure he has it. Fruits are there for everyone to eat, I cannot feed him with fruits, milk and everything. And also attend to her, in spite of her showing a long face to me. Dynamics of every home is different, comparing will only add to the problems. This has taught me many lessons:
1. ILs can be mean just for the heck of it, no rhyme or reason.
2. Education and Age are not in anyway directly proportional to wisdom and maturity. They can very well be other way round.
3. Without knowing a person’s nature, do not get favours from them, do not invite them home for long stays, just because they are RELATED. Do not underestimate IL’s vileness.
4. Do not be so naïve (I did not know my MIL gossiping to neighbors about me for 2.5 months, until the day fight erupted and she told it to me herself. Never thought she HATED me so much, she was calling up her(ISD calls) relatives back in India and complaining about me. And the stupid me was talking to them nicely not knowing about all this, can quote lot of things from marriage days)

Now, I don’t know why I want to maintain relationship with them. Why am I against shunning them? Why do I want to keep peace with them? Because they are OLD? Because DH is their only son? Because they have fought with their daughter family as well and are not even in talking terms with them either? Because I want to be good? Because Nikki needs 2 sets of loving grandparents unlike me who had love from only one? Because I do not want to regret in the future that, had I given it a chance, things could have gotten better. Because it will be easier for me to “maintain” relationship since I am in the US? Is it because of a sense of duty towards them? Because they have some love for DH and Nikki? Because there were some faults on my side too? Little bit of everything I think. One thing is for sure, I just do not have it in me to undergo one more episode like this. It will break our marriage. This one already tested the strength of our marriage.

Hmmm. I go mad thinking how I should react to them in various hypothetical situations that might happen when I go visit. I should tell them this, that, what not. One part of me says, keep mum, do not start anything by yourself. Another part of me says, she cannot get away with what she has done. Another voice says, who am I to punish? She will not be able to bear it if I give her a piece of my mind. And it will only deteriorate things further. That is not what I want, so should I act as though nothing ever happened between us? What if she brings up something again? Endless questions. God, let me have the mental clarity to take things day by day, one at a time. Do not confuse my already confused mind with so many questions, hypothetical situations, what-ifs and whys. Let my mind imagine only positive things that I can look forward to. The time that I am going to spend with my family, my cutey naughty niece, my sister, my paati, uncles and aunts, seeing Nikki pampered with love, getting myself pampered, shopping with my mom and sister, seeing my friends and their kids, showing off Nikki to them, there are so many good things to look forward to. I need this break. Let nothing mar my vacation. PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE.

weaning

Girls, I have some questions on weaning:

• How long does it take for your body to stop milk production? It is close to 1 month since I weaned Nikki, my body still has not got the message. When we stopped, I was hardly producing 2 ounces a day.

• Can you resume breastfeeding after 3+ weeks of abstinence? (mum is advising against it, she says milk inside would have gone stale, I don't buy it, but just wanted to be sure because it was salty when I tasted it)

• Will there be any long term health problems if your milk stays in your breasts for a long time? (not mastitis)

PS: was thinking about posting this a couple of days ago, with all the privacy issues I was holding it back a bit. Heck, this is a mommy blog and we are here to discuss these things

Part III – Pushing and the arrival of Nikki

Read Part I and Part II here...

Gradually I started feeling pain and at 4 PM I was ready to P-U-S-H. Michelle supported one of my legs, DH the other and I started pushing : 1-2-3. After 3 or 4 pushes, Michelle told me I am not pushing with the contraction and the intensity of my push was not enough, she asked me to skip 2 of them and do the 3rd one with full force. Only when I tried doing it I realized that I was not feeling pain as a contraction like a wave (increase, reach a peak, decrease, no pain, increase,…). It was paining all the time and it hurt like hell. There was not one second when I was not feeling pain. The way I had envisioned my labor, where I would relax, talk during the pain-free 1-2 mins and push with force when the pain comes back with intensity, flew through the window. I told Michelle that and that I will push when I think the pain was unbearable, and since it felt like that all the time, I was pushing randomly.

One hour passed, still no progress, another nurse was roped in for help. The plan was that Michelle will look at my contraction monitor and tell me when I am having a big contraction and I will push accordingly. The big contractions were occurring very randomly apart, 2 or 3 will come in quick succession, I wouldn’t be able to use all of them and then after a gap of 10 minutes will come another. The new nurse who came in did not like it, she wanted to speed things up. Thus far, I was pushing by holding onto my thighs and thrusting my legs on somebody (one DH and the other with the nurse). She brought in the squat bar, tied one end of a long blanket to it, asked me to hold on to the other end of the blanket, place my soles on the bar and push against it as I curled up. It was C.R.U.E.L to say the least. When I pushed like that, the whole weight of my body will rest on one or two discs of my mid-spine, and the pressure of the baby was unbearable, it was like my pelvic area was crumbling to pieces. I couldn’t have done that kind of stuff even in my non-pregnant state. I was sweating and shouting “ennala mudiyala” (I cannot). It went on for another 1 hour and I told them I don’t have any energy left in me to push like this. I thought of giving it all up and saying yes for a c-section. I told Michelle I needed to rest for 10 minutes at least before continuing with this ordeal. She sensed that this method of pushing was not going down well with me and asked the other nurse to remove the squat bar arrangement. Thoughts of c-section were cropping up in my mind, close to 2 hours of pushing and no progress. What was this boy thinking, why is he taking so long to come out?

We resumed pushing like we were doing before. Dr. A came in for a quick check around 6 PM, she told me she came to deliver the baby and here I was still pushing. She stayed with me this time, talking to me gently and encouraging me that I can do it. She did not talk about c-section at all. In the pushing frenzy, I had even forgotten how to push efficiently and was not drawing in enough air. I pulled my act together and started pushing with renewed vigor. Every time I pushed, I shouted “I cannot take this anymore”, “ I cannot”, “ennala mudila”, “I don’t want to do this”, “ it is unbearable”. She would say “you are strong, you can do it”. Mom also joined her in encouraging me, whenever I pushed Mom was getting very excited, “innum konjam thallu, pappa thalai theriyuthu” (push some more, I can see the baby’s head) and Dr.A would be “I can see the baby’s head, he has lots of hair” (Don’t ask me what DH was saying, he said nothing). Another hour passed, I started thinking that they are lying to me in order to encourage me. It was 3 hours since I started pushing, without any progress I decided that Dr.A would go in for c-section. Surprisingly, she was not talking about it all. I told her that I was feeling the pain without any respite even for a second and that was making it extremely tough for me. She was sympathetic and told me that she is going to cut open my perineum(episiotomy) to help baby come out since his head was also big. It did not matter to her that in my birth plan, I had shown my preference to tear naturally and was not at all for a surgical cut. She did not wait for my response and cut me up. I was fearing these stitches far worse than the c-section stitches.


She asked me to continue pushing and went to attend another delivery. She came back in 15 minutes with vacuum and asked me if she could use it. I asked her to use it only 4 times and if the baby is not able to come out by then, I will agree for a c-section, did not want to put Nikki at any risk. I was completely exhausted, out of breath, sweating, requests for cooling down the room were turned down (they wanted the room to be warm since the baby was expected anytime), thighs, legs, back, arms were aching like hell. I pushed 3 or 4 times more and every time I would say “I cannot do this anymore” and Dr.A would say “shove some more, baby will come out”. Vacuum had been used a couple of times without any result. Things were getting ready around me, baby warmer was being warmed up, one more nurse was called in for helping Dr.A. I was feeling depressed and desperate. Dr.A was paged for attending some other delivery a couple rooms down the corridor. I resigned myself to c-section because it seemed I would never be able to push the baby out. There was nothing left in me. All the efforts I had taken during my pregnancy to have a vaginal delivery, walking everyday (after coming back from work, will do the cooking and other chores and would drive up to the mall however tired I am, even if it is 10 PM and had to go to work early next day), do exercises (I have never ever exercised before or after pregnancy), the antenatal classes, all the pain that I had endured during that day, close to 4 hours of pushing, everything flashed to my mind. I was not willing to give up now. I was determined to give everything (whatever was left in me) and make one last effort in pushing. Dr.A was back by then(10 minutes).

It was about 7.45 PM, I started pushing again. This time I was not pushing by anybody’s directions. I started pushing when I felt I had enough strength, sometimes in quick succession, sometimes 3-4 minutes apart, and out came Nikki at 8:05PM, when I was least expecting him to arrive, after 17 hours of labor and 4 hours of pushing. Within a couple of seconds of Nikki coming out, DH rushed out of the room aghast by the gush of blood and fluid that came following him. No, he did not cut his umbilical cord neither did he click pictures. Dr.A was worried he would faint in the corridor and sent one nurse looking for him. The other nurse was massaging my belly and within couple of minutes placenta came out. I was shouting, “it is still paining, it is not reducing”, Dr. A just smiled at me and continued sewing me up. Apparently the pain doesn’t stop immediately after the baby comes out. I wanted to see Nikki, but they had taken him to the warmer without showing him to me, they wanted to examine him immediately since his scalp had bruises from the application of vacuum. The nurse told me she would give him to me after 10 minutes, so I started picking Dr.A’s head. How many times did you apply vacuum? How many stitches am I having? Is it a 3rd degree or 4th degree tear? When will the pain stop? She told me she had applied vacuum 6 or 7 times, she had expected 4th degree tear because of the weight of the baby, the size of his head and the amount of time we pushed, but it is only 3rd degree, it was about 12 stitches, the thing that was prodding me in the rectal area is a hemorrhoid that had protruded out early that morning because of Nikki’s weight. DH came back within a few minutes, mom and DH did not come to my side at all during those 10 minutes, they were busy checking Nikki out. Nikki was 9 pounds(4.1 kgs) and 21.7 inches, he scored 7 in the 1st Apgar test and 9 in the 2nd. His weight was exactly as predicted by the ultrasound not even an ounce less or more. (7 ½ pounds at 36 weeks, at a rate of ½ pound a week, he should be 9 pounds by the end of 39th week).

He was brought to me wrapped up in warm clothes, he looked like an angel, I couldn’t believe he was mine. He was not looking like a typical newborn baby(tiny, closed eyes, wrinkly skin), he already looked like he was 3 months, skin was angelic (reminded me of roses instantly), eyes wide open and very alert, but tired from the ordeal. I felt for him, it should have been equally tough for him if not more, he had been crying inconsolably for the first 5 minutes. I still can remember his cry as soon as he came out, it was heart-wrenching. Here I am writing about what I endured and everything, he might have endured more pain than me and has no memory of it. He was a little trooper, he did not fail his amma, not once during the delivery did he give her worried moments with reducing heartbeat and the like.

I took him closer and the first thing that occurred to me was that he was DH’s clone(other than eyes) and he had my SIL’s eyes, no resemblance whatsoever to my side of the family. I was disappointed because I wanted him to have my eyes(brown). If not my eyes, at least DH’s, my sister’s, or his own unique eyes, not my SIL’s. I don’t know why I felt so then, now it sounds stupid to me. Anyways, after the customary opening of the milk shop (was not emotional about it at all, actually felt as though I was cheating him because there was nothing there), he was taken to the nursery. I was in no mood to enjoy him, neither did I bond with him instantly. Everything still felt surreal, I could not believe he was mine.

Labor is a different experience for every woman and her perceptions about it before and after it happens will also be different.

In the hindsight these are my perceptions

1. Labor pain is not so hell-like as shown in the movies, it is manageable, it was like very bad menstrual pain for me.

2. Pushing is not comparably(to labor I mean) easy, for me labor was easier and I even could have endured pushing if it was only for 2 hours, but 4 hours was H.E.L.L.

3. Epidural late during labor –helped me with pain only for 2-3 hours. I wonder if it delayed the dilation part and had I been mobile, probably my pushing time also would have reduced. Because of the epidural, catheter was used to remove urine and that gave me urinary infection.

4. If you know your baby is big, it is better to go in for an elective c-section, rather than attempting to have vaginal delivery. C-sect moms may disagree with me, I do not know the pain of c-section and the post-partum woes that come with it, but I know the pain of episiotomy stitches, urinary infection and hemorrhoids occurring together. I could not sit, pee or poop without pain & crying for 8 weeks. Had I known what post-partum had in store for me before, I probably would have opted for c-section. The weird pushing that I did for 1 hour did so much repair to my body, I could not stand straight/walk properly, sometimes I even had trouble breathing because my mid-back and spine hurt like they were going to break. Every cell in my body ached for close to 2 months, apart from having Tylenol every 4-6 hours, I took oxycontin when pain reached unbearable levels(I am a person who hates to take medicine, unless otherwise it is absolutely necessary). My legs swelled up so badly(19 hours of IV and lot of water take) and it took 2-3 weeks for my body to flush everything out. My other post-partum woes that had nothing to do with vaginal delivery: Boils in the armpits sometimes so big that I could not even move my hands(I still get them, I have to stop breastfeeding completely in order to get complete diagnosis & treatment), De Quervain’s syndrome(extreme wrist pain) got so worse that I could not even hold my plate while eating. (imagine having to hold a baby as big as Nikki for breastfeeding n times during the day, Nikki loved to cluster feed during the initial 2 months). I was so depressed(not clinical depression) during the initial 8 weeks, I would just cry, cry and cry because of the physical pain that I was enduring, I hated being sick and would be longing for the days when I can be my usual self. I did not even feel like talking to anyone, the moment the person asked me “how r u doing”, my eyes would start welling up and I will start sobbing over the phone. I was awash with self-pity. I sometimes felt I should not have had Nikki, babies are not for lesser mortals like me. DH did not know what to do, he would take care of feeding Nikki the expressed milk during nights and rock him to sleep. He sometimes would be annoyed with my constant whining and crying. My mum was my rock during those days, I don’t think we would have survived it all without her. I am ETERNALLY indebted to her for having been there by my side, in a foreign land braving the harsh north-east winter, consoling me, encouraging me, taking care of me, Nikki and the home. I really wished I had given birth to Nikki in India because I saw her undergo so many hardships, just for us. She would have had lot of help there, here she was doing everything all by herself in an unknown place with not-so-familiar American ways of bringing up the baby. Amma, I LOVE YOU, YOU ARE THE BESSSTTTTESSSSTTT.


So, that is our story. Nikki is the joy of our lives, he is worth much more than e..v.e.r.y. bit of ordeal I went through, if I had to relive everything allover again, I will try to do it in a more happy way, with less whining and crying.

PS: I have to mention this weird weird dream that I had about 10 days before delivering Nikki. I don’t know if it was intuition or premonition. I did not know what it meant then. In my dream, I opened up my tummy, took Nikki out and showed him to everyone. Everyone was going “uuuhhh”, “aaahhhh” over his looks, I was the only one who noticed that his head is weirdly oblong, it was like somebody had pulled his head from top and there was a very big bump (it was not standing out, it was more like the shape of his head itself was modified), I caressed him and put him back inside my tummy. He was almost similar to how I saw him in my dream, a bump and some bruises at the top of his head because of the vacuum usage, it was not so weirdly oblong though.

PPS: His eyes looked like SIL’s only for a couple of days. As soon as he lost the water weight couple of days after his birth, his eyes started looking bigger unlike the Chinese eyes of his aunt. He now is a complete clone of DH including eyes.